


Fire and Lightning

by ScreamingViking



Series: Fire and Lightning [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingViking/pseuds/ScreamingViking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Champions and Heroes, but without any of that stuffy plot business. Instead it's mostly snippets of fluff and angst and whatever other random prompts people send me. Most of it will be GenesisxHawke (or Gawke as it shall henceforth be known). No real continuity between them, some may even be mutually exclusive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lilies and Shaving Foam

 

**Prompt – Flower**

Hawke hated lilies.

She didn't think she'd ever have the courage to explain why. It wasn't a story she was prepared to think about let along discuss.

Just the delicate smell of lilies was enough to draw her down into the forbidden depths of her mind. To a place where all she could smell was blood magic and rotting corpses, where every shred of fabric began to resemble moth eaten bridal clothes and her mother's last rattling breath echoed in every room.

Aerith wouldn't understand. The flower girl was too innocent, too entrenched in her own ways to see how a simple flower, grown with nothing but tender loving care, could be horrifying. Despite having already lost her own birth mother, she didn't know the unflinching terror that such a harmless object could represent. Hawke hoped she never would.

Genesis was more perceptive. He saw how she would studiously avoid the side of the flower patch in the church where the lilies grew. It was almost an art really, the way she could strategically plan everything she did to avoid having to venture to the other side of the room. He didn't know why, but something in her expression told him everything he needed to know. Whatever he saw in her eyes when the smiles grew plastic and her laughter became forced told him to keep his silence on the subject.

She didn't even know he'd noticed until Valentine 's Day rolled around. It was one of the very few holidays that occurred on both worlds, even if the names were different. The celebrations were mostly the same, barring one tradition. On Thedas it was customary to gift your lover with roses.

On Gaia the flowers of romance were lilies.

The majority of the day was a torment to Hawke. Some part of her suggested perhaps facing her past and overcoming the agony. The rest of her was too busy scowling at a city drowning in lilies to even consider it. The entire world looked to have suffered a downpour of the insipid flowers, their cursed white petals  _(far too white, how could anything that stunk of such vile death be so white?)_  adorning every shop and house, the subtle aroma contaminating every street corner.

Hawke never thought she'd miss the overbearing stench of the slums.

In retaliation she locked herself in her room and pretended she was sick, knowing she'd have to come out sooner or later but happy to take the coward's path till then.

She had a date with Genesis that night. He would pick her up and no doubt he'd have a bouquet of lilies for her and would undoubtedly take her to some lily drenched restaurant where she would waste all of her energy in trying not to throw up and the entire evening would be ruined. No, she wasn't brooding, why do you ask?

At 7 O'clock (or 1900 hours as he insisted on calling it) he knocked on her door, looking incredibly sharp in an impeccably tailored tux.

Hawke was wearing a sheer silk dress in maroon and looking absolutely ravishing if Genesis' expression was anything to go by. Her own expression was unmistakably her 'I am definitely not scared' face.

With a knowing look he pulled out a bouquet of red roses. She was so relieved she could have kissed him. So she did.

He caught her around the waist and quietly spoke into her ear.

"I hope the day hasn't been  _too_  insufferable for you."

She smiled softly, reflecting on how fabulous her taste in men was.

"Utterly insufferable," she said lightly, "But it's just gotten a lot better."

She wasn't ready to talk about it. But she didn't have to be.

He understood that.

Dammit she loved him.

* * *

**Prompt – Shave**

Genesis was always meticulous in his appearance. He had an image to maintain and standards he would not abandon. On Gaia that was all well and good. As an apostate on the run in Ferelden however, this was something of a problem.

Still, he had been on the front lines of a war and dealt with limited supply lines, he could weather the loss of some luxuries. No cologne, no perfectly styled hair, there wasn't even any tooth paste (salt and vinegar did not count, no matter what Hawke claimed), but he could handle that.

As time continued however it became increasingly obvious that the lack of safety razors was a serious issue. He didn't know how to use a cut-throat razor (which was the only option), and he grudgingly resigned himself to having a beard. Hawke however, was unprepared to have a bearded Genesis and declared he wouldn't be kissing her again until he was clean shaven.

Five minutes later Genesis was standing in their room at this week's inn staring at a cut-throat razor and muttering about sacrifices at world's end.

Hawke rolled her eyes and deposited him on a rickety chair, taking the blade from him.

"I used to do this for Carver." she explained, "He had all the fine motor controls of an ogre."

She covered the lower half of his stubbly face in shaving foam and picked up the razor. The blade glinted in the dull light.

Moving to stand behind him, she partially wrapped herself around his shoulders and held up his chin.

"Don't move." she whispered into his ear.

The razor pressed against his skin as she gently brought it along, cutting a clean swath through the shaving foam on his cheek. She manoeuvred the blade deftly, her hands skilled and steady.

Genesis sat perfectly still as he felt the razor slide against his chin. The edge of the blade didn't so much as nick him, held as it was by a woman who wielded blades with absolute precision. The unforgiving metal edge was in sharp contrast to the soft body pressed against his back and her gentle hand turning his head as needed. This was who she was to him: warm, caring, and holding a blade to his throat. Genesis suppressed the smile the thought brought to his face. He had always courted danger; there was no surprise that he had never felt safer than in Hawke's arms as she dragged a razor across his neck.

"You've far too fine a jawline to go hiding behind those whiskers." She said absently, wiping the blade on a towel.

"You just wanted to run your hands over me." he said, trying to move as little as possible.

"As though I need an excuse." she said with a smile. She came around in front of him, kneeling between his legs. "Careful now. Wouldn't want to mess up this part."

He dutifully held his chin up higher, her fingers holding him in place. His hands came to rest on her waist. The cold razor scrapped up along his neck. There was something incredibly intimate about it, the slow glide of metal against his flesh; he was defenceless under her intense gaze and steady hand. His hands held her waist securely, grounding him to her beyond the cold metal.

"There you are." she snapped the razor shut. She wiped the remaining bits of foam off his chin and ran a hand along his now smooth cheek. She brushed a soft kiss over his neck. "Much better."


	2. Sparring

“I challenge you to a duel, Hawke.”

“What?” She said, looking up in surprise. “Why?”

“Why not?” Genesis said, leaning casually against a twisted Fade tree. “I hear you’re rather good at it. It’s not as though we’ve anything better to do.”

“I am, in fact, very good.” she said, leaning back on her hands from under the tree and giving him a considering look. Finally she relented, getting up and dusting her hands off.

“Alright then. It might be a little unfair though.”

“I’ll go easy on you if you like.” he said.

“I meant unfair on you.” she said with a wry smile. He laughed.

“I’m a SOLDIER, Hawke. It’s hardly your fault that you’re weaker than me.”

“I come from a world that hasn’t invented anaesthetics yet. I am anything but weak.” she said in a dry voice.

“You’re pain threshold may be barbarically high, that doesn’t mean I can’t completely crush you.” he said, sounding terribly amused.

Hawke did love a good challenge.

“Bold words, Swordsman.” She said archly, “You stand in the Fade and challenge a mage. This is my realm. You don’t stand a chance.”

“I hope you have the skill to support this bravado.” He said, drawing his sword and letting it glint in the faint light.

Hawke smirked, her hand curling around her staff.

“Come and find out.”

They stood at the ready before each other. Genesis held his sword defensively, obviously letting her deal the first blow. Little did he know, she had already. A high levelled gravity spell was building in her mind, just waiting for the right moment to be released.

Tired of waiting for her attack, he charged, his sword whistling through the air. She released her spell and watched him stumble back at the last minute. His guard momentarily lowered she struck out with her daggers, making the most of the opening she’d created.

He swore and parried, realising what she’d done and not appreciating the extra weight suddenly attached to his limbs. Impeded as he was, his enhanced speed was out of the picture, bringing him almost down to normal-person level. Hawke danced around him with her daggers flashing dangerously. He kept up, striking back and vying to take the offensive.

Hawke grinned viciously, her daggers both blocked by his flaming sword. Dodging the fireball that he sent after her, she called down a string of lightning bolts to chase him about the battlefield.

Oh, but this was thrilling! Her pulse hammered and Mana sang in her veins.  Her staff whistled through the air to send out a lobby of stony earth magic. His shield materia blocked the majority of the attack and she was immediately faced with a relentless rain of strikes from his sword.

Genesis’s face held a look of concentration mixed with the sly thrill of a damn good fight, a look of such intensity that could easily slay lesser women on sight. He was relentless in his attacks and Hawke had the exhilarating suspicion that she may have bitten of more than she could chew. She was sure her electric grin made her look utterly mad.

She staggered back after parrying a slash from his sword and called on a barrier spell. She had to keep her distance; in terms of magic she had every advantage: greater power, greater speed, and greater versatility. In melee however, he really could crush her and probably without even trying all that hard.

They danced around each other, Hawke keeping him at distance with a constant barrage of magical attacks that forced him onto the defensive. Neither of them were pulling their punches and the surroundings were suffering for it. Half the trees had already been either set on fire or sliced through in the crossfire.

The problem was that Hawke’s strongest attacks which her fingers were itching to unleash were all either lethal or indescribably painful. She had never really bothered with learning how to disarm her opponents, Kirkwall didn’t allow for such niceties. With half of her arsenal off the table and Genesis’ flaming sword pushing her onto the defensive again, she would have to get creative.

She forced him back with a string of lightning bolts, and then followed it up with an incredibly focused kinetic spell. Genesis’ sword was blasted out of his hand and went flying beyond the grove of trees. He cried out in indignation. Hawke laughed wickedly at his look of outrage. She did so enjoy riling him up.

Of course, his sword held most of his materia and without it his only option was extreme close quarters. In a flash of red and black leather he charged her, batting aside her staff with a re-appropriated shield spell, tackling her and sending them both to the ground. In the split second before she was grappling with someone who had more than thrice her strength, Hawke reflected that she may not have thought this through.

They rolled a couple of times, her daggers getting lost somewhere in the scuffle. For all that he looked lean next to many of his co-workers he was still all solid unyielding muscle, while Hawke was built for speed and flexibility, not strength. Her fluid agility had her eluding his grasp, though not for long. At this range the vast majority of her magical attacks would either outright kill him or just splash back onto herself. The cunning man probably knew she wouldn’t risk either and he soon had her completely pinned, holding both of her hands above her head in an iron grip. After writhing about looking for an opening and coming up empty, Hawke fell back, breathing heavily.

He was effectively straddling her, maintaining his hold on her wrists he brought one of his hands down to lightly trace her neck. He looked down at her panting form, his eyes glowing with the exertion and his smile predatory.

He leaned down closer to her, their faces only inches apart.

“Do you yield, Hawke?” He asked smoothly. Well, when he put it like that…

“Not a chance.” she purred.

There was a flash of his smile, sharp and ravenous and sending a shock of arousal through her. Then the moment snapped and Genesis’ mouth was on hers. It was rough and demanding, a clash of lips and teeth. Her hand slipped from his grasp and dragged through his hair, barely remembering not to scratch him with her gauntlet. Their tongues warred for dominance and adrenaline from the fight swiftly transformed into something else entirely. His arm wrapped tightly around her waist like a band of steel while the other explored her figure with surprising gentleness.

Hawke ran her hands under his coat, feeling hard muscle hiding under his uniform. She tried to push the leather further back to allow her more access but he didn’t want to relinquish his hold on her. She bit his lower lip in protest and he growled, suddenly pinning her to the ground with even greater fervour. She moaned in response, her thoughts scattering under the assault of sensation. The friction as she writhed against him was divine, but still only a hint of the ecstasy she was chasing. Evidence of his arousal was pressing against her stomach, making her insides molten just at the thought of having him. Her body ground against his in a desperate attempt to get closer.  

He groaned at her movements and his hands clamped down on her hips. He ground his hips against hers, slow and purposeful over their clothes, driving them both mad with need.

She moaned his name and found his eyes locked on hers, his pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Hawke…” He said, his voice in a low and husky register that sent another pang of desire through her.  His lips claimed hers again, repeating the controlled grind of his hips on hers.

She threw her head back with a gasp and his lips trailed down her neck to lavish attention on her collarbone. Between the kisses and the caresses she finally got his coat and then his shirt off. His hands found the clasps of her armour. He tossed aside her pauldrons and she traced his finely muscled arms and chest.  His hands met her bare skin, trailing slowly up her waist under her tunic. Her world was reduced solely to the man above her, an ache building deep within her that demanded he be hers. Hawke’s unhinged magic sparked across her skin in little bolts, a physical manifestation of her burning need.

An ear piercing ring blared out, startling both of them.  What the-?

Hawke sat bolt upright, blankets falling off her narrow bed. The ringing phone screamed on, scattering the last of strands of the Fade.  

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” she cried, looking across her dark and empty room in aching disappointment.  The phone kept ringing.

She scrambled across the darkened room and snatched up the offending device.

“What the hell do you want?!” She yelled into it, feeling more pissed off then she had in years.

“Morning Ma’am.” a nasally voice droned as though she hadn’t spoken “This is your five o’clock wake up call.”

“I didn’t ask for a wakeup call.” she ground out, wondering if it was possible to electrify someone through the phone line.

“What? Oh. Right. Wrong room.”  The line went dead.

Hawke threw the phone at the wall.

Miles above her, in a luxurious Shinra apartment, a frustrated Soldier set fire to his curtains.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm not sorry. 
> 
> Next Time: Fenris, for realsies this time. Maybe.


	3. Surprise

**Prompt – Surprise**

"Oh, you are never touching me again you blighted little son of a nug humping Chasind hedge witch!" Hawke spat out, practically crushing Genesis' hand in hers as she strove to push an overdue baby out of a hole that quite frankly hadn't been expecting visitors.

She was sweating profusely, her hair plastered to her face and her cheeks flushed with pain and exertion. Genesis was white as a sheet and looking absolutely terrified. Fortunately he was too panicked about the pain his wife was in to mind the litany of insults and the loud declarations of never ever having sex again, which on any other evening would have guaranteed his attention.

This wasn't a situation either had expected to find themselves in.

Hawke had grown up determined not to have children. Any offspring she did have were likely to be mages, and she'd rather not have any at all then risk them falling victim to Templars or demons. When she'd grown from a cautious child to a confident woman she started to notice the smiling mothers and pregnant woman around her but it had never struck her as something that might feature in her own future.

Life moved on and the Qunari stormed Kirkwall. Hawke boldly stood up to them. She answered the Arishok's challenge and fought him head on before a crowd of blood splattered nobles. After a parry that didn't quite work out she was skewered right through the abdomen and smashed against a stone pillar by a 10 foot tall Qunari. Victory was hers anyway, but not by much.

Anders nursed her broken body back to health. Seeing the damage sustained he told her in no uncertain terms that she would never have children. She was no fool; the sorrow in his eyes was as much for the loss of his imagined future as it was her own. In a city that was more of a warzone then a home, she couldn't bring herself to regret the loss.

When Professor Hollander told her she was pregnant she had laughed in his face.

Genesis had scowled.

SOLDIERs, more often than not, were infertile. Something about the mako injections played havoc with their reproductive abilities. Given Genesis' unusual genetic makeup and increased mako levels he was almost certainly completely infertile.

The accusations he levelled were vicious and met head on by a frazzled Hawke who despite her confusion wasn't about to take his insults, let alone the accusations.

The resulting screaming match had Hollander fleeing the lab just in time to evade the fireballs and lightning bolts and summoned comets and entropic wisps of corroding magic that tore apart a good chunk of the science department.

When the dust cleared and emotions were reigned in from world-breaking to merely murderous, they requested a paternity test for the unborn child. Hawke made her opinion on the subject very clear.

"And when you get it through your thick skull that I'm not cheating on you, you'd better hope Angeal has an extra bed because we're sure as the void not sleeping under the same roof. And if I ever do let you into the house again, you'll be sleeping on the couch for the next decade."

Genesis did not deign to answer, keeping his expression cold and unforgiving. On the inside he desperately hoped that he was wrong. And if he was, he hoped she wouldn't go through with her threats. Previous experience did not make the latter seem likely.

The test results declared that Hawke was indisputably pregnant with Genesis' child.

He was duly remorseful for his accusations. After much apologizing and outright pleading Hawke deigned to let him sleep on the couch.

The fallout from their explosive fight lasted only as long as it took them to truly realise that they were seven months away from being parents. Under the circumstances Genesis was allowed back into his own bedroom and Hawke was smitten all over again at the awed expression on his face as he traced her slowly growing belly.

"Hurry along little one." he murmured, kissing the small bump that held a growing life he had helped to make. "We are eager to meet you."

Hawke had something in her eye. Why was everything so dusty all of a sudden?

Everyone else was overjoyed. Angeal was thrilled for them, Aerith and Zack cooed appropriately, and Sephiroth actually smiled. Genesis' mother spoke to Hawke without even gritting her teeth.

Genesis' slightly unhinged fan base continued in their mission to make Hawke's life hell, though some of the far too keen fan girls thought the pregnancy was adorable. There were several who didn't. A few of the less pleasant ones found themselves in hospital after antagonizing an emotional Hawke and then spontaneously developing a number of very colourful bruises and electrical burns.

The question still stood as to how they could have conceived a child at all but Genesis' newly discovered protective side wouldn't let Shinra's scientists anywhere near his pregnant wife. Their best guess was that Aerith's healing potion had presumably fixed whatever needed fixing. They had both been thoroughly doused in it, who knew what it had tinkered with?

As the date approached Genesis wouldn't let Hawke go monster hunting. Or at least, he tried to not let her go monster hunting. Eventually it was decided that she could fight (within reason) until her fourth month, at which point she would simply have to make do with the Virtual Reality training rooms. If that wasn't adequate then she would just have to get over it because Genesis could be far more stubborn than Hawke when given sufficient reason.

The months passed in a flash. Bizarre cravings became common place. Genesis nearly pulled his hair out in frustration when Hawke decided she absolutely needed to have nug stew with elfroot sauce. Fortunately that passed and the due date steadily approached.

Hawke continued to grow until she could have sworn there was room for three in there. Genesis paled and told her not to joke about such things. A check-up verified that there was only one baby on its way, much to the relief of both parents. The doctor said it was going to be a girl.

There were some who thought the gender disappointing but nobody with sense mentioned any such thing in Hawke's presence. Genesis' reaction was absolute delight and the few months left were spent in arguing over baby names.

Despite the rocky start and countless arguments the two almost parents found themselves growing closer than ever. Falling asleep each night with his hands resting over her swollen belly always put a smile on Genesis' face. Hawke never stopped being moved by his devotion to her and the child she was brewing up.

Then the moment of truth finally came. All the waiting, scheming, yelling, fretting, and planning came down to this. Directly after a lazy dinner in the late afternoon sun, their daughter decided she was ready to be unleashed upon the world. It was time for her grand entrance.

Everything happened in a whirlwind of frenzied people getting out of the way and Hawke noting that this was exactly as painful as everyone had said. She couldn't even begin to express how grateful she was that she wasn't giving birth back in Thedas. As much as she loved her homeland, the land of antiseptics and actual hospitals was a much better place to be going into labour.

Not that there was any ideal spot to be going through such ridiculous amounts of pain, she idly thought as her battle hardened mind tried to compartmentalize the agony. Several hours later any such attempts at containing the pain had been thoroughly defeated. Andraste's rotten ashes, this was bloody painful.

Hawke screamed.

Genesis blanched.

She squeezed his hand and did her level best not to let her magic discharge and electrocute everyone in the room.

Their little girl took her own sweet time.

Hawke didn't even register half the incredibly creative curses that flowed from her mouth, covering all the foulest expletives she had ever heard in every language she knew, many of which would have had even Isabella blushing.

What felt like decades later but was in fact only 6 hours, it was all over. A little bundle of joy was placed in Hawke's arms. She had run out of tears, so Genesis cried for her. There was a little tuft of red hair and tiny little limbs with just the right number of toes and fingers. The tiny thing wiggled a bit, unused to the freedom outside of the womb.

"Hello Cassandra." Hawke said gently, wanting to softly stroke her daughter's face but afraid that her hands would somehow hurt her. Overwhelmed with emotion, hands more used to killing than nurturing finally overcame their shaking and oh so delicately trailed over a tiny little cheek.

Hawke found she still had some tears left after all. Genesis ever so gently placed a hand under the baby's head, softly supporting it as he rested his forehead against Hawke's.

"You're perfect, my love." he said quietly, his tone banked with thick emotions Hawke heard clearly. Tears still ran down his face. "Both of you. My own precious, precious family."

Little Cassandra squirmed ever so slightly, her lips puckering. She nudged her mother's breast, blindly searching for a nipple.

"You've never been so beautiful, love." Genesis said, giving Hawke a gentle, chaste kiss on the lips.

"That doesn't say much for how I normally look." she replied, utterly exhausted and laughing lightly at the whole situation.

Marian Hawke, a mother. Who would have guessed it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter everyone! Thanks for reading, leave a prompt or a review if you like.


	4. AU: Blood and Fire

**"If this world seeks my destruction… It goes with me."**

* * *

 

A chantry exploded, a sword shattered, and Hawke woke up on Gaia.

A beady eyed man in a white coat looked down at her, his scalpel as cold and sharp as his mind. Her back arched in pain off the operating table. Her magic sputtered uselessly against the strange metal restraints.

It was all she had known since that day in the gallows. Pain and Despair and Fear and Pride spiked with every cut. Rage and Hatred grew stronger still and they gave her strength enough to endure. Her sense of time was in shambles and her memory shattered under the deluge of strange things she was injected with.

The Fade was her only refuge. In the dark, cold corner of a sterilized cell lit with white lights that never dimmed, she fled into her dreams. There a bargain was struck.

The man with beady eyes brought down his scalpel. Blood sang in her veins, in the air, in her magic. It whistled through the air like a thousand blades. Manacles snapped. Bodies hit the ground and blood pooled.

Hawke laughed as alarms blared. She got to her feet, her legs shaky from months of inactivity. It didn't stop her. Nothing stopped her. She strolled gaily through halls of blinding white, passing other cells and operating tables. Locks melted before her and guns jammed in their wielders hands under her magic's corrupting reach.

She painted the halls with a dripping red, a stark contrast to the pristine white coats that now fell in fluttering ribbons to the ground.

As she wandered on, a trail of the dead and dying in her wake, she noted something a little strange. There were screams of pain in the halls before her as well now. Then she came across a corpse that she hadn't put there.

She looked at it with a puzzled frown. The body had been incinerated.

Humming in thought she continued on, swinging the staff she had retrieved from a lab in her path.

The halls were quiet now, filled with more corpses that displayed someone else's handiwork. A host of burn marks and slices on the walls told of furious fireballs and cunning sword work.

_How curious_ , she thought, brushing blood matted hair out of her eyes.

Soon she was met with the curiosity itself.

Before her was a man dressed in red, with rage in his eyes and a flaming sword that threw beautiful arcs of gushing red streaming through the air.

Here there were pristine white coats again, defended by trembling gunmen. The man in red threw a wave of fire at them.

She flung out her hand and the blood sang again. She made them all scream and the swordsman silenced them.

The room was quiet again, only the steady drip of blood and the crackle of distant fires scoring the moment.

The swordsman smiled at her, sharp teeth and glowing eyes, all broken promises and a rising furnace of rage that would burn the world to the ground.

In turn a cracked grin that spoke of horrors she would gladly share lit up her face.

* * *

They carved their way through the building and together retreated to his base. There was a bizarre camaraderie between them that neither had expected to find in the depths of the science department. It made enough sense for them.

His name was Genesis and he had a Cause. He was dying, rotting from the inside out and it was all Shinra's fault. He had an army made of weaker clones of himself and a scientist who said he was trying to fix him. In the burning fires of his mind his cause flickered between getting healed and going back to the idyllic life he nearly had, and just destroying everything because he knew he could never go back.

Hawke had no Cause so she borrowed his. They both knew she didn't truly care but she didn't care enough to get in his way either. His rotting wounds she patched up with magic and blood and it was enough for the moment. His army learned to tremble at the sight of her, as did his scientist. Their blood could sing just as much as Shinra's, if she so wished. Rumours of the feral mage and the rogue SOLDIER spread. The two of them laughed and plotted.

Soon the Cause was a war. Gaia shook before the two creatures of Rage and Hate who spared no thought for mercy or respite. Shinra scrambled to hold them back and was stretched thin.

As the fires raged and the pools of blood spread, Hawke and Genesis fell further into each other. In a writhing mess of rage and hatred and tangled limbs they finally collapsed together in the night. For a moment the blood did not sing and the fires were quenched.

In a bed of rumpled sheets Hawke lay on her side.

Behind her Genesis leant against the headboard as he read his favourite play. The smell of sex was in the air but neither was inclined to cuddle in the afterglow. That was a comfort they didn't understand anymore.

Their violent passion had subsided and melancholy was all that remained. The only sound was that of the occasional page turning quietly behind her. The voices that sang through blood had gone away for the moment and Hawke's mind drifted in the cold silence.

"Do you think… we're the bad guys?" she asked softly.

Genesis looked down at her. Her lounging form was facing away from him and covered by lazily draped sheets. With her skin hidden from view she appeared flawless, perfection of the female form. A beautiful lie. He had traced the scars hidden beneath the sheets, some had been made by scientists, others by her own hand. Her skin had broken so many times in so many ways; all that was left was a cruel crosshatching that left no inch of her untouched.

"We are what Shinra has turned us into." He said. It lacked the usual passion. There was no use in facades. Not here.

"I think… I should have liked to have been the hero." She said so quietly. "One last time."

There was silence. His eyes fell from his book, lost and unfocused.

"So would I." he whispered.

But then dawn broke and nothing so tender was left in the harsh light of day. Again the fires had to rage and the blood would sing with unending hatred. There was nothing else for them now.

* * *

Those who called themselves Genesis' friends met them over crossed blades.

The black haired SOLDIER, all too conscious of his Honour, couldn't decide if he wanted help or get in the way.

The General was duty bound to stop them but he didn't want to. He didn't understand the Rage or the Hatred so he stood back while others fell. Genesis hated him for it.

Then there was a younger one, the student of the SOLDIER with Honour. He was mockingly called the Puppy and his innocence and enthusiasm made it a fitting title.

So eager to prove himself, he threw his full might against Hawke. It wasn't enough.

She stood over his broken body and something like regret stirred. The woman she once was would have been revolted and filled with self-loathing at the Puppy's death. There wasn't anything left of that Hawke though, and now other voices filled her mind. Her softer memories skittered away and she remembered only that she didn't care.

At his student's death the SOLDIER with Honour was broken. He didn't care enough anymore to Rage or even to Hate and in the end his death was at his own hands.

Genesis' rage only grew. His sickness and loss drove him ever further into the spiral of hatred and fire he was orchestrating. Shinra buckled under the weight of the war.

Hawke would see the world drown in blood before she stopped. Her body still stretched painfully from the days under the blinding light of the labs. The gaping holes left in her mind she filled with sharp and brittle hatred. The supply of clones ran low and the scientist deserted them. She found him and tore him apart. She revelled in the fall of the last white coat, its pristine edges soaked in red.

Shinra finally crumbled. Its arrogant president was skewered on a red sword and the blinding white halls were torn from their very foundations by corrupt magic. The world fell into havoc; all that was left were the last few members of SOLDIER and their perfect General.

There were no more clones. Tall and unrepentant Hawke and Genesis faced down the last true SOLDIERs in a desert wrought by scorching winds and the ruined memory of things that had grown there long ago.

Blood sang, fires raged, swords clashed and magic thundered down from the sky.

It would have been an epic battle if there had been anyone left to watch. Instead it was to be a hollow victory, no matter who triumphed.

As her last barrier failed Hawke was struck down by the General. With a cracked grin that spoke of horrors she'd wrought with her own two hands, she bled out in the arms of her red swordsman.

Genesis rose one last time against his old friend. He did not have friends now, only a bloody sword and burning rage. It was not enough. With a sharp smile that was all broken promises and a furnace of rage that had burned down the world, Genesis died on his enemy's blade.

A perfect General who did not understand was left alone.

A bloody sun set over a burning Gaia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. I promise this madness was a one off.   
> Next Time: safe and innocent Fluff.


	5. Parenting - Part1

Little Cassandra Rhapsodos rolled over in her bed, her eyes still wide open.

Genesis sat next to her cot. His chin was propped up on his hand and he held a newly released book on materia theory. He wasn't getting much reading done though because the squirming two year old was clearly  _still awake._

This was getting absurd. He could outlast hidden snipers, patiently plan out month long sieges, and endure even the most tedious of board meetings. He was not going to be beaten by a two year old.

By all the laws of man and nature she should have been exhausted. Even  _he_  was exhausted.

He put his hand on her back and rubbed soothing circles. Surely she was going to fall asleep soon. Surely.

Curious eyes that glowed just like his own blinked up at him. She had inherited his hair as well, but the rest was all Hawke. Baby fat made her cute now but there was no doubt that 15 years from now she was going to be absolutely stunning, with the same sharp features as her mother. She already smiled like her, with a charming little grin that hinted at endless mischief.

He'd had enough mischief for one day.

As a bachelor he had been a very selfish man. But he wasn't prepared to be a selfish father. He was embarrassed to recall the silliness he'd displayed on the subject of changing nappies back when Cassandra was still a new born. It wasn't dignified, it wasn't hygienic, he was a First Class SOLDIER and he didn't want to.

He'd told Hawke he couldn't see his own parents ever doing such a thing. She'd quietly asked if he wanted to be like his own parents. That had instantly silenced his complaints.

He'd been fully involved in the fine art of parenting ever since. His daughter would only have one childhood; he wouldn't waste it being selfish.

She rolled over again, snuggling into her blanket and a much chewed stuffed fox. He held his breathe, thinking his watch might be nearing its end. Then she started humming a little tune and wiggling her head and his head dropped into his hand.

"Cassandra." He snapped. "Stop that. You are here to sleep not to sing."

She froze and the humming ended. Then she gave a great sigh of how terribly put upon she was, and rolled herself back over again.

He couldn't leave while she was still awake because his darling daughter had inherited far too much of her mother, the stubborn thing. When left alone she would immediately get up and start scheming her way out of the cot. You would think a two year old wouldn't be able to get very far, but you would be woefully mistaken. She had become truly adept at breaking out. Attempts at keeping her in had only honed her skill further.

When desperation had them installing a lock on the cot, it had taken her 15 minutes to figure out how to wriggle her little arm around and slide the bolt out again. The more complicated they made the cot the more effort she put into escaping. Then she would climb out and find them and start the whole cycle again.

No matter how angry they got she kept it up. She was a curious child who hated being away from the action and had been blessed with the determination of both her parents. Genesis had a sneaking suspicion that she viewed their attempts at preventing her from getting back up as a challenge.

Eventually they'd been left with no option but to actually be in the room with her until she fell asleep. Assuming she ever did fall asleep.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling weary himself. His work hadn't become any easier over the years and being a SOLDIER was no office job. The long hours and gruelling physicality of it was all the harder when you were kept up to all hours by a troublemaking toddler.

She lifted her head a little and looked around.

"Don't even think about it." He said.

She sheepishly lowered her head again.

"Sowy." She mumbled through the blankets.

He loved Cassandra more than anything else in the world. But was it truly so much to ask that she just  _go to sleep?_ For once?

Hawke, despite her misgivings, had proven herself an excellent mother. For someone whose default position was apathy, she would gladly kill scores of people for the sake of her own. It made her very reliable in these matters. No matter how much they could infuriate each other, it didn't matter. Genesis and Cass were hers and therefore she'd give the universe to keep them safe and make them happy. Nothing else was relevant as far as she was concerned.

Which was why she was going to practically combust with fury when she got back.

The day had started off peacefully enough. Hawke was helping Aerith with something (wedding plans he was pretty sure, Aerith had been buzzing with excitement) and he had the day off.

As a treat for her he'd taken Cass to the petting Zoo. She loved all the different animals and had squealed with absolute glee. His fangirls, still unreasonably devoted despite his having morphed into a family man, had cooed at the red headed toddler and taken as many photos as they could. Cass enjoyed the attention, though she had no problem voicing her displeasure once she got sick of them. The littlest Rhapsodos was a shamelessly melodramatic.

From there things had taken an unexpected turn for the worse.

It had only been a second. He always kept a close eye on Cass when in public, both he and Hawke were famous and not everyone wished them well. They couldn't shelter her from the dreariness of reality forever but he took every measure to ensure she wouldn't be involved in the politics of it.

Yet it only took one second for an ambitious Avalanche member to snatch up the toddler and bolt.

Cassandra bit the hand of her kidnapper and screamed as loud as her lungs would allow, which was far louder than the kidnapper had been prepared for.

Whatever the environmentalist terrorists had planned he had no idea and he didn't stop to theorize. In the sudden scramble as the kidnapper tried to make off with  _his daughter_  Genesis had already immolated the pathetic grunts left to stall him. He sprinted after them with his sword flaming hotter than it ever had before and his eyes screaming bloody murder.

By the time the terrorists realised they had vastly overestimated their chances it was far too late for them. Genesis sliced through them like the child stealing vermin they were. The absolute panic in his heart as he carved his way through them was something he never wanted to feel again.

It hadn't been long before Cassandra was safe in his arms again, but it had felt like a lifetime. Sheer relief flooded him. She hadn't been hurt, just frightened, and now the short episode was over.

Unfortunately it had been on camera. Almost immediately headlines all over Midgar read 'SOLDIER's Child Kidnapped!', 'Rhapsodos Girl Taken by Terrorists!' and the like.

Hawke was going to kill him.

But Cass was safe. And that was enough.

He didn't notice when his head started to droop. Soon the book fell from his grasp and his eyes closed, and he didn't notice that either.

Cassandra did though.

* * *

Not long after, Hawke came home. She hadn't decided yet whether she was going to electrocute the love of her life to hell and back, or scream at him for a bit and then start the electrocuting.

She'd only been gone for five hours.  _Five hours_  and Genesis had managed to make all the headlines and get Cassandra kidnapped by an infamous terrorist organization. Oh yeah, there was definitely going to be screaming. But where were they?

There wasn't anyone in the living room, or the master bedroom. Most of the lights were off, but the little nightlight from Cass's room was on.

She snuck into the toddler's room, needing to check that her daughter was safe and sound after whatever madness her Father had gotten them into.

She breathed a prayer to the Maker that she was actually sleeping, but found her worry evaporate at the sight before her.

Genesis was sitting on the chair by the bed, head drooping forward and sound asleep. Cassandra was not in her cot but curled up in his lap. She was snuggled into her Father's chest and clinging to his shirt. Her little blanket was partly draped over his legs from when she'd climbed up. His hand held her securely against him, stopping her from accidentally rolling off in her sleep.

Hawke leaned back against the door frame, just watching them. Her budding little rogue of a daughter and her meticulous SOLDIER husband slept peacefully, unaware of the tender sight they made.

She could yell at Genesis in the morning. Not only were they unbelievably sweet together, he had gotten Cass to go to sleep. Everything else was secondary.


	6. Scars

**Prompt – Scars**

In a sea of rumpled bed sheets Hawke and Genesis lay peacefully wrapped in each other's arms. Hawke was resting her head on his shoulder and partially draped across his chest. Satisfied and sore in the most delicious way possible, she was idly tracing patterns over lithe muscle and enjoying the play of light from the late afternoon sun across his skin. She didn't care that they were being lazy and decadent, this was their honeymoon and she wasn't getting up for anything less than a full scale Blight.

Even then she might not be convinced.

Genesis was no less relaxed, languidly nuzzling into her hair and looking perfectly content. With his hand hooked under her knee he had dragged her leg across himself, letting her lie pressed up against him. His hand was currently tracing her thigh (he always had been a leg man), and he was taking great pleasure in the study of her contours. Her response was an oh-so-relaxed purr and to lightly nuzzle into his neck.

His hand trailed along the three parallel scars on the outside of her leg, travelling diagonally from her mid-thigh to the back of her hip. She had many scars and he loved every single one of them. She wore them with pride; the marks of a life lived so very close to the edge. Some were deep and jagged and would adorn her body till the day she died. These he traced reverently, knowing they were testament to fights where death's spectre had lurked all too closely. Others were light and would fade with time, trophies that had been earned and deserved to be displayed.

The three long lines on her outer left hip were his favourite, if only for the joy he had tracing them in the heat of passion and the needy mewling sounds she made when he kissed them.

"Where did you get these?" he asked lazily, tracing them gently.

"Hmm, my first dragon." she said into his neck. "It was… a valuable learning experience." He could feel her smile against his skin and hear it in her voice.

"You got your ass kicked." he said dryly.

"You didn't see the other guy." she said with a little chuckle. "I did kill it in the end, but that was only because a poorly aimed blast spell accidentally started a landslide."

He shook his head fondly. It was so typically Hawke-ish. His hand massaged her thigh softly, imagining her facing down a giant lizard so haphazardly.

"What about you? Where did you get this?" she asked, trailing a finger over a short scar on his side.

"That was from a ninja, during the early days in Wutai. I didn't know they poisoned their blades until I found the wound blistering angrily."

Hawke made a displeased murmur. He knew she was something of an expert when it came to poisons and would object to his suffering.

"Fortunately, the mako in my system burned out the toxins before it could do any serious damage. We made sure all of our medics were well stocked with antidotes after that anyway."

Hawke hummed her approval.

His hand left her leg and explored elsewhere. He ran a finger over a thin line on her upper back.

"What's this one?" He didn't like how close it was to her vital organs but it wasn't deep enough to have been too dangerous.

"That is how I know that assassins take an open back dress as an invitation." she said, yawning absently. "It was at some fancy noble's dinner party. I think it may have been the first Antivan Crow sent after me, before they realised they'd need to try a lot harder."

They went back and forth recounting the stories written upon their bodies, exploring each other with an unhurried calm that made the moment so intimate.

"That was from a Materia mishap."

"A stray crossbow bolt, years ago."

"A bite from the Leviathan Summon."

"Trying to disarm a bear trap while in a rush." Hawke said, looking down at the hand Genesis was inspecting. The scars were usually hidden beneath her gauntlet, the diagonal marks running across her fingers. She was lucky she had escaped with her hand still intact. He kissed the scar tissue.

"And this one?" he asked, running his hand over a thick jagged scar on her abdomen, right beneath her ribcage. His other hand found the accompanying scar on her back that marked what he accurately guessed to be an exit wound. His instincts said a sword had pierced right through her torso.

"The Arishok. I was skewered on his sword and thrown across the room. I don't remember much of the fight after that, though they tell me I won." Her own hand was pressed against the long since healed wound on her front, her mind adrift in memories. He held her tighter, trying to block out the image of his precious wife being tossed about like a rag doll.

"You're incredibly lucky his blade didn't hit any vital organs."

"Not lucky enough apparently. I don't know what but something important got grazed. I was bedridden for months; they didn't think I'd make it."

Genesis nuzzled into her hair again and let his hands travel to her waist, content to just hold her. Some part of him objected to her facing danger so boldly and wanted to keep her at home, where she would want for nothing and he could always protect her. The rest of him knew that such a thing would only tear them apart. Hawke was too much like her namesake, a vicious bird of prey swooping down upon her enemies one moment and soaring high above the world the next. That was simply who she was, the woman he loved so very dearly. Hers were not wings to be clipped. Instead they would soar together, braving the world and guarding each other's backs.

Her hand had trailed up to his shoulder, lightly caressing muscle until she felt the rough scar tissue there. That one didn't need an explanation; both knew exactly where it had come from and what it meant. The wound he had gotten through his own folly that day in the training room, the wound that had refused to heal. As much as it was the last evidence of his degradation, it was also a token from the day he met her. For all its significance it was small and fainter then most, a testimony to Hawke's healing power. Now it was the only mark of a struggle endured and overcome.

She turned her head and kissed it, gently running her lips over the scar tissue. Genesis smiled and stretched, feeling his body stir under the lithe woman draped over him. She nipped softly at his skin before soothing it with her tongue. His hands returned to her thighs and he pulled her over him fully.

Hawke continued her ministrations, straddling him as she kissed her way up his neck. She reached his lips and explored his mouth, sensual and unhurried, content to slowly stoke the fires into blazing embers that would burn forever. Her tongue slid across his and she felt his hands gliding up to her hips, holding her firmly over his growing hardness. His mouth moved to her earlobe, her neck, her collar bone, lavishing attention upon the hollow at her throat. He smiled wickedly at the soft crooning noises she made, as always enthralled by her responses. He shifted his thigh against her and revelled in the arousing purr she gave.

The phone on the bed side table started ringing. Genesis gave a groan of acute frustration and she fixed the offending device with a cutting glare.

Then she leaned down and pulled the plug out of the wall.


	7. After the Surprise

Angeal was halfway through a box of noodles when there was a knock on his door.

Muttering at why people only stopped by during mealtimes, he put his dinner down and went to answer it. An exhausted looking Genesis stood in the open doorway.

His hair was a mess, the edges looking singed. His lip was bleeding and his coat was streaked with soot and the unique branching patterns that came from a direct lightning strike. He had a haunted expression in his eyes that Angeal had never seen before.

"May I come in?" He asked, as though this were perfectly normal.

Angeal stood to the side without a word, letting him enter. His friend walked in and stood awkwardly in the centre of the room. Watching with concern, Angeal crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. Genesis wasn't even seeing the place; rather he stood there with a vaguely baffled look on his face.

"I don't know if I'm brave enough to ask." He said finally, when no explanation was forth coming. His money was on Hawke being at the root of whatever this was but that didn't narrow the list of potential disasters in the least. The woman was practically his sister-in-law and he was on good terms with her, but nobody could pretend she wasn't a mess of spectacular disasters and criminal activities.

Genesis ran a hand through his hair. One of his gloves was missing. He didn't seem to notice. There was a burdened silence that lasted far too long.

"Hawke's pregnant." He finally said, his voice hollow.

Angeal instantly stood up straighter, his mind grinding to an uncomfortable halt. Genesis collapsed onto the nearest sofa.

Every SOLDIER was aware of the complications they had having children and he was no exception. Did that mean that Hawke had-? It wasn't something he would have ever thought possible, not of her. Yet here Genesis was on his couch with his head in his hands.

"And the Father?" Angeal asked, as carefully as possible.

"Me." Genesis said, sounding utterly baffled.

"Really?" He asked before he could stop himself.

"Hollander ran a paternity test. It's definitely mine."

"Then… why are you here?"

"Because I asked the same question you just did." Genesis said, finally looking up at him.

"Oh. I take it she didn't react well?"

"To being called a worthless cheating whore? No. No she didn't." He said with a short bitter laugh.

"Genesis!" Angeal exclaimed, protest and reprimand colouring his voice. "You didn't actually call her that, did you?"

The red head leaned back on the couch and ran a hand down his face. "Suffice to say I did not take the news well."

"No wonder she kicked you out then." He sat and picked up his box of noodles again.

"Thank you, Angeal, for your unrivalled support and encouragement." He said, cutting his eyes at him.

"Happy to help." He took a bite of the noodles. They had since cooled and were now greasy. He looked down at them in disappointment.

"It's not that I've got anything against… children, but we didn't plan for this." Genesis said, reflexively filling the silence with monologues on his problems. "By the goddess, we've never even discussed it!"

"That seems a bit short sighted." Angeal commented.

"She thought she was barren." He said offhandedly. He got up and started to pace. "I've never even thought of having children, I expect the same goes for her. It just wasn't a possibility and I was fine with that." He ran an agitated hand through his hair. He took a couple of deep breaths. Then he spun back to look at him.

"Maker, I am going to be a Father, Angeal." He said, his voice wavering like it had only just dawned on him. "There are going to be little people in this world who look like me and will expect me to guide them and protect them and teach them and..." He took a deep rattling breath. The haunted look had returned to his eyes. "Please tell me you have alcohol here."

Sending him a sympathetic look Angeal got up and went to the kitchen. He opened a cupboard and fetched the bottle of Banoran brandy he kept there. Genesis drank it far more than he did, though he did like a glass on occasion. The bottle was three quarters full.

He handed it over. Genesis pulled the cork out and drank straight from the bottle. That was a first.

"I don't know anything about kids." He said after taking a long gulp and wiping his mouth. "I terrify most of them."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Angeal said. He was mostly certain it was true.

"I'm a SOLDIER, Angeal, I kill people for money!" Genesis spat back, looking at him as though it was highly irresponsible to even suggest it would all be alright. "My wife, who isn't even talking to me right now, is a gambling knife wielding mercenary. What business do we have being anywhere near  _children_?" He took another swig of the bottle and then let his hand fall pathetically to the couch beside him. "We are doomed to failure." He declared.

"When you put it like that it I suppose it really is hopeless."

"What?" He demanded, looking at him in consternation.

"You can't do it." He replied bluntly.

Genesis opened his mouth to retort, but then he paused and his eyes narrowed. "I know what you're doing."

"I'm trying to give sound advice. Even Hawke is out of her depths here. I'd suggest adoption."

"I am not giving  _my_  child away to anyone." He replied, with the sort of calm that usually preceded epic fireballs.

"Why not?" Angeal challenged.

"You know precisely why." He said coldly. "I might not have intended this to happen but no child of mine is going to be merely handed off like some inconsequential nuisance." He stood again and paced the length of the living room, talking as though he were giving a lecture. "They are going to be raised with the greatest care and attention. Once they reach adulthood they will be competent and confident with eloquence and sense." He paused and tilted his head at a thought. "I wonder if they'll appreciate  _Loveless."_

"Planet, I hope not." Angeal said and immediately regretted it.

"Of course they will!" Genesis snapped back in outrage, gesturing with the bottle. "They may even grow to be actors, or poets themselves."

"At least Hawke will be there, so there's still hope." It was always terrifying when Hawke was the reasonable one. "Though I suspect she'll have them picking locks and taking cheap shots before they're potty trained."

Genesis barely heard him, a thoughtful smile starting to cross his face. "I can teach him how to wield a sword and Hawke can show him how to wield his natural magic." The smile grew ever so slightly. "Then I'll show him materia and she can teach him the trick of her own blades."

"What if it's a girl?" Angeal asked.

"Then she'll be just as magnificent as her mother." He held his chin up high.

"With her sense of humour too I imagine." That would be fun, especially in her teenage years.

"No, she'll have her mother's looks but my wit." He corrected. Angeal rolled his eyes. "And the best of both our fighting styles."

"I don't think you get to decide things like character traits." He said with a crooked smile at his friends growing enthusiasm.

"It's my son or daughter, I'll raise them however I like." He said dismissively. His smile grew less restrained and into something brimming with hope, the sort he never allowed himself in public. "I'm going to be a Father, Angeal."

"Congratulations by the way." He said, giving his own wry smile in return. He didn't think he'd ever seen Genesis like this. But then it was a momentous occasion.

"I'm going to be a Father." He repeated, completely oblivious to him. Even with his hair singed, his coat ruined, and kicked out of his house for who knew how long, Genesis looked like the happiest man on Gaia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No disrespect to anyone adopted, Genesis just has some unhealthy resentment for the entire concept. Thank you for reading, leave a review if you like or even a prompt of your own! No guarantee I'll fill it but I'll definitely give it a shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Next Time: Fenris


End file.
